It's been a bad week. It hasn't actually been a bad week, but I'm going slightly nuts. One minute I'm really happy and the next I write posts like that from earlier today and the later post from yesterday. I hate going back and forth like this. Why the fuck can't I decide if I'm glad Lindsay is back (in Berkeley) or if I don't want to talk to her? Well, actually that one I kind of understand. Just about exactly half of the times we speak, she asks me "What's wrong?," usually when I'm right as rain. It's infuriating, because when I tell her nothing's wrong she doesn't believe me and when she finally drops it she sez, "Well, okay" in the most beautiful voice I've ever heard and I know all she wants to do is help, but there's nothing fucking wrong! Yeah, so I'm afraid that if I call her she'll ask me what's wrong and I'll flip out and hang up. I don't want to do that because it would hurt her and only bad things would result. At the same time, I love talking to her and I really want to call her.